


To Twist the Script

by Aura_Creed



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2D Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16686484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aura_Creed/pseuds/Aura_Creed
Summary: 2D Bendy AU. They'd done it. They'd made it through the studio and had gotten into the Ink Demon's throne room. A battle and the play of a reel later and Bendy was still here. Despite everything he was still himself - his crisp paper home held by his friend as they now stood in a room unfamiliar to them both. They were safe. Bendy looked to Henry, grin wide.Henry never responded.





	To Twist the Script

Henry had told him to close his eyes, at the foot of the throne. Close his eyes as the click of a reel began to play, keep them closed as the ink demon screamed. Everything started to burn and even though he refused to look he could see the darkness becoming a blinding white, and it hurt, but it wasn’t just from the bright light. The edges of the paper he was on crinkled and he could feel his space shrinking but he couldn’t tell if it was from Henry clenching the paper too tightly or if he had somehow caught on fire or...  
  
Suddenly Bendy blinked his eyes open. Hues unlike the swaff of moldy yellow and black of everything he’d been told about greeted him. He looked up and saw a familiar set of sturdy fingers still wrapped around his page, his shoulders slumping in relief at the sight. Hands he’d barely noticed clinging to his horns dropped and he turned his gaze to the scenery, a tired smile shakily making its way across his face. Two chairs, a sketch table off to the corner, and the smooth wood of the walls gave way to a doorway at the far end. A clock spiked with the lines of the sun was off to the wall nearby, ticking away the seconds.  
  
_Huh… are we… outside..? How long was I out..?_ His pie cut eyes shifted to Henry, who still hadn’t moved since Bendy woke up. “Henry…?” He spoke, reaching out to tug gently at the man’s thumb as Henry started walking. Bendy blinked, watching as the man shambled around the room, eyes seemingly unable to take in their environment. The toon bit his lip, ruffling the cuffs of his gloves nervously as he focused more on their shared bond.  
  
A demons pact, formed by the joining of ink and blood -- the Creator and creation, linked by the storyboard as it were. They’d progressed so far in their shared connection that Bendy should have been able to hear thoughts that weren’t his own, feel emotions that weren’t his own, but he heard and felt nothing but static. A sudden chill swept over him at this realization before he tugged once more on Henry’s thumb. “Henry..? Henry!” Panic leached into his voice but Henry kept walking, ignorant of the little cartoon devil as he strolled into a bedroom.  
  
It wasn’t really until then, as the silence of the man’s thoughts ate away at the little devil’s mind, that a whistling became more apparent, more crisp. It had always been there, but now with silence and clarity came acknowledgement -- he knew this tune. Turning, he looked back towards the dark wooden door as realization struck him with his raising brows.  
  
“Henry, I don’t know where we’ve gone to but there’s someone else here… Henry?” His voice trailed off at the end, shaky smile turning to an equally shaky frown as the old animator continued to ignore him. This was very unlike the old man, usually he would have said something by now.  
  
Almost as if he was lured in by the old song, Henry moved, knees creaking as he made his way past the doorway that had been at the far end of the first room. Lighter grays gave way to darker grays as they entered a kitchen, a bright light coming from a… window? And…  
  
“Henry!”

  
Bendy froze stick figure stiff on the page. Apprehension bubbled into horror, so sudden and scalding that he was shocked he hadn’t burned into a dried up stain on the page from _that_ man's voice.

 

“So soon?”

 

He could barely look, eyes drifting off target as they focused instead on a stiff old wheel chair and the edge of a countertop. Henry hadn’t tensed, hadn’t seemed to have felt any emotion at all since he walked into the room. Nothing was coming over their connection, and it only made the toons frown deepen.  
  
_Henry..?_ Bendy asked hesitantly through their connection, tugging at him emotionally but the worry and fear only seemed to consume the little toon as he continued to get no response; nothing but static. It wasn’t even as if Henry was sleeping, or even sleep walking for that matter, there was just nothing. The silence itself was the static; despite his thoughts crying out to the human, he received nothing in response and the void between them only yawned as it grew.  
  
Fidgeting with dismay he jumped up, smacking both of his cheeks to steel his nerves before he grabbed onto Henry's thumb. _Come on, Henry! Joey’s right there and you got nothing..? What’s going on? Hey!_  
  
“I wasn’t expecting you for another hour yet. Now you’re just trying to impress me.” Joey slumped, sighing.  
  
Bendy kept tugging at Henry’s thumb, getting it to move but only succeeding in having the man drop him instead. “Wh-- Henry!!” He gasped, hands pressed to the front of his paper cage as he stared up at him, fluttering helplessly to the tile. “Henry!!”  
  
“But I know… I know… you have questions. You always do!”  
  
_Of course he does, so do I!_ Bendy mentally screamed, stomping on his little line on the page as he looked up at Henry. His hands slid down the paper, eyes widening at the expression he could see on his friend’s face. “Henry…?”  
  
“The only important question is this…. Who _are_ we, Henry?”  
  
Henry’s expression was blank, face almost relaxed as he stared at the man across the counter. Eyes were more than just tired, they seemed to be missing their glow entirely -- dull and gray, almost as gray as… _What?_ Bendy glanced back towards Joey’s voice. Just through the rungs of the wheelchair he could see the bathrobe, Joey’s slippers…  
  
“I thought I knew who I was… but… the success _starved_ me. Nothing left but lines on a page.”  
  
The confusion and worry started muddling out the rising panic and Bendy’s mouth twisted, glancing frequently between what he could see of Joey and Henry, mind frantically pulling at their link, their bond…  
  
“In the end, we followed two different roads of our own making. You, a loving family. Me…” A laugh rang out, and Joey waved his hand, placing a dish into the rack. “Well, you saw them, right?”  
  
Bendy kept pulling, pulling, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to ward against the encroaching static and the numbness threatening to consume his mind…  
  
“I let my creations become my life. I want people to love them, to care for them like they can their children, like they could other people. Sadly… I could never quite get that to happen.”  
  
Something snapped inside Bendy. It was hard not to notice it under such scrutiny, but the ache that followed in its wake was more blinding then the static that had preceded it by miles. Inky tears stained his cheeks as he blinked and something felt… wrong. Very, very wrong. He felt a tight squeezing in his chest. It only made the ache worse.  
  
Joey huffed, turning towards the counter at last. His eyes very briefly darted down to the piece of paper on the floor. Pie cut eyes met the tightly lined face of an elderly Joey Drew.  
  
“You used to be so good at pushing, old friend…. To do the right thing.” Joey gave a dry laugh at the end, his glare returning to Henry as he used the tabletop as a crutch.  
  
Bendy’s mind started sorting through his memories, almost against his will, in reverse. Trepidation crept up on him as ink started dripping down his face and now he knew what had happened.  
  
Somehow, because of everything that was occurring, his connection to Henry had been forcibly cut off, possibly permanently. He shuddered -- That shouldn’t have been possible -- Not with them both still being _alive_ .  
  
“You need to try a little harder. You know what to do at this juncture by now, don’t you Henry?” His disappointed glare eased into a smile, a hand waving at the door as Henry turned.  
  
_No.._ Bendy’s eyes followed him as he opened the door. This bright place filled with sunlight was nothing but a ruse, he could see it now. The sepia tones burned into his eyes just as Henry and _that_ place disappeared from view.  
  
He found his voice and screamed out for the animator just a moment too late, a fragment of a second after the door shut with a finite click. Knees slid down onto his makeshift floor, unable to process that he had just seen color for the first time -- more concerned over the devastation of Henry walking out that door..  
  
..And not looking back.  
  
It was hard not to feel his lines breaking as the ink started to run down his face freely, his pie cut eyes almost going off model with how much they had shrunk. Henry hadn’t even glanced back. Hadn’t turned his head, hadn’t said a word -- the man had ignored his very existence ever since they had gotten to this place. He didn’t even think Henry realized he had been holding a sheet of paper. Horns knocked against the invisible window of his paper cage, eyes closing, fingers tips digging into the wall..  
  
“And you,” Joey spoke directly to the toon. “I knew he was up to something…” He moved, huffing as he sat in the wheelchair. It took a moment of fighting with the chair itself -- banging it into the wall a couple of times -- before he finally got it to turn around.  
  
The little devil didn’t respond.  
  
“...but another Bendy? Moving on paper, no less…” He rolled over, picking the scrap up off the floor.  
  
That’s when Bendy fell over. Hands flailed to catch his fall, and reality hit him in the funny bone as he winced and realized exactly where he was right now. Feet slid across the floor in fast repetitive motions as he pushed himself up, jumping upwards as he scrambled to get to the farthest point on the line away from the man. A gloved hand wrapped around his hit elbow, the physical pain temporarily taking him out of his own mind as he shivered.  
  
Sitting in front of him, staring down at him, was the source of all that had gone wrong for him and for Henry -- and the offending man was _holding_ him.  
  
Even had there been a way to do something in his current situation, Bendy didn’t think he could muster the mental strength, let alone the stamina, to do anything about it. Not as he currently was, bleeding through lines that had been caringly scratched into paper time and time again throughout their journey.  
  
Not without Henry.

  
“I knew that one was a strange one…. Thomas wasn’t lying, after all..” He gave a rough chortle, eyes crinkling with the hint of a smile as he stared at the little Bendy on the page.  
  
Said Bendy was melting, but he couldn’t tell if it was from his connection to Henry being forcibly cut off, the anguish of the animator’s image as he walked out the door, or from the terror currently consuming him in the presence of the studio’s founder. Creativity was his downfall in this instance, thinking of everything Joey Drew could do to him, standing on a thread as he was.

Thinking of everything he had already done to Henry. Even aborting the thought caused him to slide back down onto the ground, unable to stand from the shaking that was turning his legs into noodles.  
  
Joey hummed, bringing his face closer and all Bendy could do was curl up, pressing his head into his knees. “I think you’d be a wonderful addition to the story I’m creating.”  
  
_No_ . Bendy cowered. _I don’t want anything to do with you. Henry, please..._ His arms tightened around his legs. What he wouldn’t give to have Henry come bursting through the door to get Joey away from him.  
  
The old man ignored his distress. “Yes… don’t worry. You’ll be back in the studio soon, right where you belong… Where you’ve _always_ belonged.”  
  
“No!” Bendy shouted reflexively, standing up as he stared at Joey with a glare that could rival even Tom’s stare downs. However, his will faltered and he cringed away from the front of the page. The hard look the old codger gave him was hard to ignore. Tight crow lines framed his eyes and the corners of his lips. They were lines that suggested the man had been a big smiler his whole life, full of laughter and cheer.  
  
Except he wasn’t laughing or smiling. The creases that would have showed the hint of such a thing were folding in the opposite direction, his displeasure clear on his face. Bendy would have paled, if that wasn’t already his default coloration.  
  
Joey disregarded the toon’s turmoil as he wheeled them into the room with the ink machine. Bendy felt cold as he saw the machine hooked up into the wall, the wall with the door that Henry had gone through…  
  
“It’s a little imperfect, so the journey back might be a bit of a ride, but you’ll be back soon little guy.” He smiled and then began to whistle. The same disenchanted tune that had echoed off the apartment walls earlier once again filled the noise where his friend’s thoughts should be.  
  
What Joey whistled was a distorted siren song -- a sickening shrill noise that could never hope to lure out a single soul. It was the same tune Bendy remembered whistling to Henry to get his attention all those hallways ago. His heart sank -- he’d never see the song the same way again -- but he had to anchor himself on the line as Joey practically tossed him overboard into the ink machine. He screamed out, “Henry!” just as he felt his page shrink into nothingness, drowning as he melded completely into the ink.

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

  
  
The whispers were deafening, as he gathered his bearings once again. Everything was pitch black, but there were voices all around him. Multiple voices, some garbled and distorted, others clearer and yet.. So, so faint. They were all almost deafening with the lack of any other sense about him and he tried to press his hands to his head but found he could not move either. It wasn’t until he realized there was a light appearing, a light the ink shied away from that he could move, could breathe...  
  
He awoke with a start, coughing up ink, body glued to the wall as he hacked. He could still feel himself melting but he was alive -- the projector was turned off in front of him, there was a Bendy plush snuggled on a chair right beside it with a smile that forever haunted the hallways with its visage. Off hidden away by the reels of the projector was the ink pressure valve…  
  
The ink pressure valve! He tried to stand up but fell over in the attempt, his eyes shrinking in horror as he stared down at his mangled foot and the torn off stub of what was LEFT of a knee on his other leg. He tensed and shut his eyes as he choked back the gut wrenching shriek that threatened to leave his throat at the sight of it all. Unable to hold the shock in for long, Bendy let out a strained shrill hiss which stopped with a heavy sighing breath, as if an old train was pulling into station.  
  
Except it felt like said train crashed straight through said station, with all its passengers aboard screeching as they erupted into flames. An eerie chill settled about him, then; a loaded silence filling his mind as he became numb, head throbbing with the dull constant of the quiet as the sound of the ink continued to flow through the walls. Or so he thought, at any rate. For all he knew it was the sound of the ink flowing down his own head that was the cause of the background noise.

 

With a shaky sigh, Bendy weakly pushed himself into a stiff-backed sitting position and shuddered. The reality of his situation fell down around him now that he could coherently think. Henry was gone, and the weight of that settled down on his shoulders as if he were carrying the world. What Joey had said rang in his mind as he thought back to the events of the sunlit room and he slumped forward in dismay, reaching up to grip his horns tightly.

  
“It’s ok, everything's ok, Henry's ok, he’ll come back, ya know he will eh? He will he will, he....” _Will he?_

  
He looked towards the door, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Suddenly glittering orbs seemed to flutter in front of him, eyes flickering to meet this new unexpected movement. They rose and vanished as he squinted and he blinked once yet the glistening bits of color only seemed to fade in and out before disappearing entirely. Oh… The ink was starting to get into his eyes. _Again_. With a wide sweeping motion he swiped at the excess ink, flicking it downward as it plopped into the puddle he was laying in. That’s when he finally noticed it.

  
A glowing yellow tone, brighter than the sepia that he could now see around him mirrored off of the small ink pool. He stared at it, unmoving as he let it settle before his head slowly raised to the wall the puddle was reflecting.  
  
Golden letters started materializing on the wall in front of him, just above the lone plush. Bendy gaped, staring as they formed, as words formed, and he plastered a grin on his face at their meaning, shoulders rolling as he leaned back.  
  
**_He will come, don’t worry._ **  
  
And, finally, everything came crashing down. Bendy heaved, chest quivering as globules of inky tears fell down his cheeks and melded with the ink bleeding out from his lines. A gloved hand gripped his chest as he breathed, shuddering after every intake of air, uncaring to the sound of his own voice or even how it cracked at the end as he let everything out. It was only after his little heart couldn’t keep up with him anymore that his hand finally fell and he grew quiet. Cheeks stained with ink, expression marred by tight lines. The room fell silent at the short breaths of a weary toon as their chest rose and fell.  
  
Down the hall, past posters and chairs covered in dust, was the sound of a long forgotten door as it creaked open for the first time.  
  
“Alright Joey, I’m here. Let’s see if we can find what you wanted me to see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Been a little over a year since I put anything up. I hit the BATIM fandom something hard when I found the link to the 'Welcome Home' video and now I've been playing around with all the ideas, theories, and AUs inside my head. I figured I'd write one out and put it up. Specifically this is based around the 2D Bendy AU by http://shinyzango.tumblr.com/. I know they didn't entirely envision the ending this way, especially with the few chapter 5 picture ideas they put up recently but I wanted to do a 'what if', in a sense and do a combo with the loop theory.
> 
> If any of the archive warnings do apply here, say which part and why. I wasn't entirely sure if 'graphic violence' counted or not, since it just sort of... happens, hence why I put 'no archive warnings apply', but if someone feels I should put it under that tag I will.
> 
> Format might be a tad.. strange. I originally had it in a google doc before copy/pasting it to the rich text editor. The spacing isn't... even. It's not too horrible looking so I'm just hoping it's just how I'm seeing it after looking through the story for the last couple of days.
> 
> Kudos to one (1) egg, GlacialAngel, MewTea, SomeRandomGal, and the others from the Seekers Discord for beta reading the piece. Extra kudos to GlacialAngel for the fanart below, it's super lovely. Cheers!


End file.
